Heavy Mental
by Mona
Summary: A parody of psychoanalysis. Several characters from the show come to see Dr. Sigmond Frump.
1. Case Study: Drew LipskyDrakken

"Heavy Mental"  
A Kim Possible mini-fic by Mona  
Disclaimer: Kim Possible and all characters from the show are copyright Disney.   
  
_"There was only one catch and that was Catch-22, which specified that a concern for one's safety in the face of dangers that were real and immediate was the process of a rational mind. Or was crazy and could be grounded. All he had to do was ask; and as soon as he did, he would no longer be crazy and would have to fly more missions. Or would be crazy to fly more missions and sane if he didn't, but if he was sane he had to fly them. If he flew them he was crazy and didn't have to; but if he didn't want to he was sane and had to. Yossarian was moved very deeply by the absolute simplicity of this clause of Catch-22 and let out a respectful whistle.   
'That's some catch, that Catch-22,' he observed.   
'It's the best there is,' Doc Daneeka agreed. "_  
--Joseph Heller, _Catch-22_.  
  
Psychiatrist Doctor Sigmond Frump glanced at the chart of his latest vic-- er, patient. "Interesting one."   
  
Name: Doctor Drakken.   
Occupation: Mad scientist.   
Physical Description: Blue skin, black hair, medium height, stitched up scar on cheek. (Don't ask!)   
Life's Ambition: Take over the world.  
Education: High school graduate. Dropped out of Middleton College junior year.   
Diagnosis:  
  
The door opened. The shrink smiled. "Come in and sit down. I'm your therapist, Dr. Frump."  
  
"I've heard of you," the patient replied. "And I'm sure you've heard of my work."   
  
"Oh, yeah. Kim Possible ruins your plans every other week, right?"   
  
Dr. Drakken growled. "Don't ever say that again...unless you want the local stonecutters to engrave 'Here lies a dead shrink.' on a block of marble."  
  
Dr. Frump ignored the obvious threat on his life and smiled. "Perhaps we'd better get started. What is your full name?"   
  
"Doctor Drew Lipsky-Drakken."   
  
"Why are you here?"   
  
"The warden sent me. He thinks I should be transferred to an asylum. He really boils my pasta. When you reach for your greatest potential, you're sane. But when your greatest potential is to rule the world, you're insane. It's a Catch-22!"   
  
"OK. Tell me about your childhood. What did your parents do for a living?"   
  
"My father was an environmental scientist and my mother was a military strategist. She got drummed out when I was four or five. Everyone's forgotten why."   
  
"Did your parents ever fight?"   
  
"Not really...well, there was one time when I was eight. My mother and I were working on my science project..."  
  
_Ulysses Lipsky entered his house. "Honey, I'm home!" He held out a bouquet of roses. "I stopped by the florist."   
  
His wife looked scornfully at the bright red flowers. "Next time, buy me a thermonuclear warhead. Those will just be dead in a week."   
  
"But they release uranium into the atmosphere. Roses and other plants, on the other hand, remove our carbon dioxide waste and release oxygen into the air--"   
  
"Stop being so politically correct." She snatched the roses and stomped on them, then turned to her son. "Drew, go to your room! It's about to get ugly!"   
  
"Yes, mommy." _  
  
"So I assume your mother was the dominant adult in the house."   
  
"Father wasn't able to sit for a week."   
  
"What about your peers?"   
  
"Peers?" Drakken's eyes blazed. "The neighborhood kids used to tease me. I was awkward in high school. And college...just don't ask about college!"   
  
"According to your records, you dropped out. Why? What could possibly hurt you enough to leave?"   
  
"Three names. Bob Chen--"   
  
"No names, please."   
  
"Well, my trio of friends asked me to get dates for the big science department dance. And don't think I didn't hear Henry Ramesh's, er-- one of my friends' comment: "He cannot even get a date for himself." I wasn't going to approach one girl, much less three. I built three robotic girls. They...didn't turn out as great as I planned. Hey, it was short notice!"   
  
"So what happened?"   
  
"They laughed at me! Not even a 'Nice try' or 'Thank you.' Their piercing hysterics could be heard all over the campus! I was the laughingstock of the college! I withdrew the next day and went home to my mother."   
  
_"Don't cry, Drewie. Whenever people would laugh at your father, he'd just curl up in a corner and sob. You don't want to end up like that, do you?"   
  
Drew only sucked his thumb. He pulled it out. "Yick. Sometimes I taste like an inferior brand."   
  
"Well, you could change your name. I never did like your father's last name. Lipsky. It just sounds so wimpy."   
  
_"_But what? Something that will strike terror in the hearts of my enemies."   
  
"I know! You could use my maiden name. Drakken. Doesn't that sound ominous? And lose those glasses. No wonder they laughed at you."  
  
_"Maybe I should speak to your mother," commented Dr. Frump. "Where does she live?"   
  
"She's still living in Middleton. Don't bother, though."   
  
"So what happened after that?"   
  
"After I dropped out of college, I got laser eye surgery. Unfortunately, the skin condition I inherited from my father worsened and my complexion became completely blue."   
  
"Oh. Enough about the past. Tell me about yourself now."  
  
"I happen to be the greatest evil genius the world has ever known."   
  
Dr. Frump held up a red-haired rag doll, then used a marker to draw a smiling face on it. "Pretend that this is your archnemesis." He it set on the coffee table, facing the couch. "What would you say to her?"   
  
Drakken sat up and glared at the doll. "I hate you, Kim Possible." He grabbed the doll and attempt to rip the head off, but the neck only stretched. He turned it over and tried to yank out a string on the toy's back. The string retracted.   
  
"What's the sitch?" said the doll.   
  
The mad scientist frowned, then tried to pull off a leg. It refused to budge. "Dr. Frump! You gave me a defective doll!" He threw it to the floor and stamped on it. It was like an ant trying to squash a bar of frozen butter. "What did I ever do to deserve her?! There are other occupations! She could have been the first teenage businesswoman for all I care!" He gasped for air as he tried to pull the arms off the doll. "She's like a roach. Keeps coming back."   
  
Dr. Frump furiously scribbled down notes on his clipboard and held out a crystal globe. "You have a choice, Dr. Drakken. Do you want the world to have this teenage superheroine? Or do you want her vaporized for yourself? It's you or the world."   
  
"ME! ME! ME!" Dr. Drakken kicked the globe. It flew across the room and shattered against a wall.   
  
"Your hour is up." The psychiatrist sighed. "I see this approach isn't working."   
  
"You don't say. I'd have felt better if that were the real Kim Possible. Nevertheless it felt good. Thanks, doctor."   
  
"You're welcome." Dr. Frump scribbled _Criminal Insanity secondary to Persecution Complex _in the space marked 'Diagnosis'_._ "I almost feel sorry for him." He wrote down, _Egomaniacal and selfish, possible Narcissistic Personality Disorder. Also exhibits signs of destructive behavior, poor social skills, and inappropriate anger._ Come on, Sigmond thought. Can't the guy even laugh at himself? He threw down the clipboard. "I knew I should have been a high school counselor. Maybe it's not too late!" He opened his briefcase, stuffed the contents of his desk in it, then threw open the door. Before he left, he hung up a sign that read 'New Psychiatrist Wanted.'   
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Case Study: Bonnie Rockwaller

"Dad!" Bonnie Rockwaller called. "Can I borrow your shotgun?"   
  
Mr. Rockwaller entered his daughter's room. "Why, Bon-Bon?" He glanced at the wall. An 8 by 10 photograph of Kimberly Possible was hanging on the wall, although barely recognizable. It was riddled with darts, thumbtacks, push pins, and the kitchen knives. _I was wondering what happened to those. _"Bonnie?"   
  
"Yes, Dad?"   
  
"Don't you think you've taken your rivalry against that Kim girl too far?"   
  
"I wasn't going to shoot her. Just the picture."   
  
"That's what I meant."   
  
"Bonnie Alicia Rockwaller, I encouraged a little healthy competition between you and your schoolmates, but you have gone too far."   
  
"Look who's talking."   
  
"Don't give me lip, young lady."   
  
"May I remind you of the Parent-Booster Club meeting last night? You offered to give a discussion of stocks and bonds to the Math and Science Club, but they wanted Dr. Possible's rocket science lectures--"  
  
"OK, so maybe I did lose my temper."   
  
"You beat Dr. Possible with your briefcase!"   
  
Mr. Rockwaller blushed vermilion and slunk out of his daughter's room. "I just wish there was some way..." He glanced at the counter. Bonnie's lunchbag was on top beside an opened letter from the school. "What's this?" He picked it up. "Dear parents, a lot has happened in the past few weeks at our school. Our previous guidance counselor has resigned. Fortunately, a psychiatrist has been able to fill in the position on such short notice..." He pulled out his cell phone. "Hello? Middleton High School?"  
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
_This better be important_, Bonnie thought. It was after cheerleading practice on Monday morning. Still in the cheerleader's uniform, she trudged toward the guidance office. "Maybe it's something about college." She opened the door.   
  
Sigmond Frump looked up. "Are you..." he checked his schedule. "Bonnie Rockwaller?"   
  
"Yes. Is this about the application I sent to Narvard?"   
  
"I'm afraid not."   
  
"This isn't about the cooked spaghetti in Kim Possible's backpack, is it?"   
  
"What spaghetti?"   
  
Bonnie chuckled nervously as she sat down on the couch. "Nothing, really...it was just...a rumor I heard."  
*********************************************  
"RON!" Kim Possible yanked her hand from her open backpack.   
  
"Yes, KP?"   
  
"Look!"   
  
"Hmm! Spaghetti!" Ron grabbed a handful of the cooked noodles and stuffed them in his mouth.   
  
Rufus poked out of his pocket and leaped into Kim's backpack. "Snackage!"   
  
Kim shook her head. "Gross."   
  
Ron swallowed thoughtfully. "Well, it could use a few meatballs. I gotta admit this is Wade's best idea yet. Dinner on the run!"   
******************************************************  
"And there was Josh Manke. Why did he choose Kim? What's she got that I don't?"   
  
"What's Josh Manke got that I don't?" asked Dr. Frump. He turned from Bonnie's stunned stare. "Never mind."   
  
Bonnie yanked a lock of her short brown hair. "I'm so jealous! I'm going crazy!" She blushed and calmed down. "Every practice, Kim and I are pitted. Like today..."  
  
_"Step to the left," Kim called. "Ninety-degree turn! Now sound off!"   
  
"KIM IS ANNOYING!" Bonnie called from behind the squad captain.   
  
The redhead whirled around. "You know very well what I mean by 'sound off'!"   
  
The brunette's only reply was a satisfied smirk.   
  
_Sigmond Frump shook his head. "Jealousy. What we do for jealousy. And the trouble it can get us into. Why, in high school, I myself had a girlfriend and whenever other guys gazed on her, I would..." he trailed off. "Well, maybe I better not say. We don't want any nasty gossip going around the school."   
  
"I thrive on nasty gossip."   
  
_Apparently putting others down empowers this girl. Maybe I can crack that shell. _Dr. Frump reached into his briefcase and pulled out the redhaired doll. "Let's try a little play therapy." He handed the toy to Bonnie.   
  
The teenager held it between two fingers. With her other hand, she pulled the string on the back. _  
_  
"So not the drama."   
  
"Hmm...sounds like Kim, looks like Kim, feels like Kim," the cheerleader sniffed. "Smells like Kim." She wandered to the window and threw it out. "I wonder if it lands on her feet."   
  
The doll landed on a tree bough, which bent like a lever, catapulting it back into the open window.   
  
It bonked Bonnie on the head.   
  
"Oww...hurts like Kim too."   
  
"When did your jealousy of Miss Possible begin?"   
  
"It dates back to...almost eleven years ago. We were five."   
  
"And you remember it?"   
  
"Like it was yesterday."   
  
"What was it?"   
  
_Five year old Bonnie Rockwaller was happily squishing her mound of clay, forming it into smooth balls, then squashing them into lumps.   
  
"Wow..." came the voice of the kindergarten teacher, Miss Tress. "What a wonderful sculpture, Kimmie."  
  
"No big." Kim patted her clay statue. "I call it the Immortal Ron."   
  
"It looks just like him," Miss Tress gushed.   
  
Ron beamed happily.   
  
"If I had a replica of that little freak, I'd smash it," muttered Bonnie. "And that statue is ugly and lumpy. Well, we'll see who's immortal," she took her lump of clay and divided it in half. She then took a half, molded it into a ball, and tossed.   
  
The young girl had a great aim. The ball hit the Ron double at the neck, knocking the poor statue's head off.   
  
"Ooh," sniffled Miss Tress. "And I wanted to let it harden and submit it to an art show." She turned on the class. "Who threw that?"   
  
No answer.   
  
"All right, who has no clay?"   
  
The children held up their lumps.   
  
Bonnie pressed her lips together hard to keep from grinning. _  
  
Dr. Frump tapped his pencil. "So you felt threatened?"   
  
"Well...yeah." Bonnie let out a sigh. "Everyone loves Kim Possible. Why not me?"   
  
_The shell has broken. _"Well, Miss Rockwaller, destroying other people's artwork and being snotty only works to alienate others. Maybe if you smiled a little more, exchanged a few kind words, people will open up to you more. Do unto others as they would do unto you."   
  
Bonnie blinked. "Perhaps." She glanced at her watch. "Oh no! I have to go home and finish my homework!"   
  
"Go ahead, I think I've heard enough for one day." He turned to his clipboard.   
  
Name: Bonnie Rockwaller  
Occupation: High school student, cheerleader  
Physical Description: Slim, short brown hair, blue eyes  
Education: Current high school student, 3.6 average  
Life's Ambition: To beat Kim Possible at something  
Diagnosis: Acute Green With Envy Blues. Demonstrates superiority complex, possible Narcissistic Personality Disorder. Slight possibility of Histrionic Personality Disorder. Under brassy exterior, you get the feeling all she wants is to be appreciated.   
  
Bonnie strolled down her house in deep thought. _I wonder what would happen if I were actually nice for a change. _She noticed someone walking out of Bueno Nacho, crunching on a Naco.   
  
She knew that bite anywhere. "Ron?" she called, for once using his name instead of 'freak', 'Kim's friend', or 'obnoxious cretin'. She bit her lip. "I just wanted to tell you...I think you did a good job on last week's game. The whole 'mad dog' thing. It was really funny."   
  
A piece of beef from the Naco hit the ground. Rufus' jaw dropped.   
  
Ron pushed the naked mole rat's jaw back. "That girl sure looked and sounded like Bonnie. You suppose she's been body-snatched?"   
  
"NO, YOU LITTLE FREAK-O!" snorted Bonnie. "You know what? You're not even worth being nice to." She turned and strutted off.   
  
Ron burst out laughing. "What alien would want to snatch her body anyway?"   
  
"Same old Bonwie," squeaked out Rufus.   
  
End   
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
